


slow down (you're gonna crash)

by Emlee_J



Series: Highway Verse [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Racing, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Insecurity, M/M, Missing Scene, Set during chapter 10 of 'life is a highway'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:47:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27639742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emlee_J/pseuds/Emlee_J
Summary: Once his heart has settled, just enough that his head doesn’t feel quite so light, Kageyama cracks open his eyes – when had he even closed them? – to peek at Hinata.He’s met with that familiarlook.The fire and the brimstone, that burn of golden brown. But it’s different now. Not competition, butheat,deep and wanting. Hinata shifts slightly in Kageyama’s lap and tilts his head just slightly, and Kageyama feels almost like he’s being assessed.Hinata eyes him like he does corners at a race track – wondering how he wants totake it.-A missing scene fromlife is a highway- The racing is sorted; the pressure is off. The new season hasn’t started yet, and time is, for once, on their side.Hinata and Kageyama spend a night together.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Series: Highway Verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1883134
Comments: 48
Kudos: 229





	slow down (you're gonna crash)

**Author's Note:**

> WELL. this is new!! I very rarely partake in reading nsfw and have NEVER written anything like this before so please excuse any stumblings :') I am a baby deer in a field of smut
> 
> firstly, all the endless thank-yous, buckets of gratitude and love for maeve, avery, iris, pinch and the annas for their support and encouragement and extra extra extra love and thanks to roxanne and cupcake who basically held my hand throughout this whole thing, spoke with me whenever I needed it, made wonderful suggestions, helped me SO MUCH and lovingly beta'd this and gave tips ;_____; ilu
> 
> it took... a LOT for me to write this (and a third of a large bottle of rum) and i never ever would've managed it without the help of my friends so ;o; tysm!! <3 <3
> 
> anywho!! this takes place during chapter 10 of highway - just after hinata gets his dinoco drive and the boys wake up the next morning in hinata's house :} i hope you enjoy!!

Hinata’s appointment as Dinoco’s newest driver remains a secret for all of three hours. 

The evening sun is only just starting to settle by the time the celebrations from earlier have ended and Hinata is leading Kageyama to his house, holding his hand loosely.

In the distance, Kageyama can just about hear the chatter of the townspeople – of Nishinoya and Tanaka’s hollering, mostly – as everyone starts to peel away from Main Street and into the residential part of town. It’s the area he’s spent the least amount of time in – with its winding streets and sparse streetlamps and quaint, old fashioned houses. He looks around, openly curious, as their feet crunch over the stones in the loose dirt path.

“Maybe Suga shouldn’t have opened all that wine…” Hinata muses as they round a bend, laughter chasing them on the breeze.

By the time they had returned back to town, Hinata’s shellshock over his Dinoco offer had just started to wear off. He’d thrown himself into Kageyama’s arms for an impromptu, fierce hug as soon as they’d clambered out of their cars, and then had looked so worryingly close to tears Kageyama had all but dragged him to _The V8 Café._

After he’d been sat down in one of the café’s plush booths, had a beer shoved into his hands, and been given a few minutes to sip his drink, calm down, and get himself back under control, Hinata had turned to Sugawara and simply blabbed out his news.

“Oops,” Hinata says, once Sugawara had rushed off to tell the first townsperson he could find. “Was I allowed to say that?”

“Probably not.” Kageyama shrugs, sipping his own beer. “But it’s not as though anyone’s going to blab to the press and Dinoco will release their own statement in the next few days anyway so who cares, right?” He sends a smirk over the rim of his beer bottle, one that is returned immediately.

With dizzying speed, Sugawara managed to pull the entire town together and within an hour a party was starting up in the middle of the café. It’s the way Karasuno Springs seems to traditionally enjoy things: with old music and dancing and more laughter than words. Sugawara had pulled out the best wine he had to offer, and the townspeople had merrily drunk to Hinata’s new success.

Kageyama and Hinata both had declined to drink beyond their initial bottles of beer – they both wanted to race first thing the next morning – but neither could turn down any of the food that had appeared, once Shimizu had joined Sugawara in the kitchen.

Now, with a full belly and an even fuller heart, Kageyama trails behind Hinata contentedly, until the path they’re on ends at a small, one story house.

It’s a little shabbier than its neighbours, with paint flaking off the walls and the plants outside overgrown, but no less charming. Hinata shoves open the door, dropping Kageyama’s hand to do so, without even needing a key.

“You don’t lock your house?”

“No one does,” Hinata shrugs, flipping on a light switch just by the entrance. There’s a creak and a flicker, and then the lights inside blink on one by one. “Very small list of potential culprits if anyone decides to steal anything. Sorry about the mess.”

Hinata’s house is anything but messy, Kageyama thinks, as he steps inside properly.

It’s an open plan building, with the front door leading directly into a spacious living area that has a small kitchenette just off in the corner. There’s only one other doorway, leading out into a short hallway and, presumably, the other rooms of the house. And instead of clutter, there are boxes littered around the room, some in stacks and others on their own, each with Hinata’s handwriting scrawled across their sides in marker.

“Guess I need to unpack,” Hinata sighs as he navigates around the boxes, gesturing for Kageyama to follow until he reaches the sofa and topples down onto it.

Kageyama folds himself onto the cushions beside him. It’s an old sofa with worn upholstery, but it’s still squishy and comfortable, and the image of Hinata curling up on it for an afternoon nap pops instantly into his head.

“Are you disappointed?” he asks.

Hinata cocks his head. “About what?”

“That you don’t have to move.”

“Oh! No, I’m actually pretty relieved I get to stay,” Hinata admits, sinking back against the cushions and gazing around his house with fondness. “I was happy to go back to the city to find a drive, but… I never really _wanted_ to leave.”

Kageyama nods along, understanding. He knows full well how much Hinata adores the town – and the townspeople - and privately is quite relieved Hinata is still happy to stay. A small bonus he’d been hoping for when Hinata had been awarded the drive – Hinata being able to stay in the environment that had allowed him to flourish; and to heal.

“So…” he starts to say, once the silence that falls gets a little thick, “the course record huh?”

“Yep,” Hinata replies, popping the ‘p’. He still sounds vaguely stunned. “I mean…” he clears his throat and sits up a little straighter, a teasing smirk bursting across his face. “Of course, all that training on the dirt tracks paid off, and I _have_ been tuning that car for the past two years so my speed should be _pretty_ good-“

“It was really impressive,” Kageyama admits, mostly to cut off Hinata’s bluster. Because that’s what it is – he can tell, he’s seen it so many times before. Boasting with no ego behind it, the kind of peacocking that comes when someone is just as surprised they achieved something as everyone else.

Hinata falls quiet and turns shiny brown eyes towards him, mouth falling into a little ‘o’.

“Just…” Kageyama starts to say, before he wets his lips with his tongue, takes a breath, and starts again. “Just going around that track like you did, even coming close to that record, yet alone _beating_ it… it’s impressive.” He pauses again, running his suddenly sweaty palms along his jeans to dry them.

“I wanted to surprise you, so I didn’t want to tell you anything about Dinoco until we arrived. But I did wonder if I had been a little… hard,” he admits, and risks a glance over at Hinata.

Hinata says nothing, just continues to stare back at him with that fixated, golden look.

“I know how badly that race with Vitoline affected you, and to hold your nerve like that to perform again, in front of not only another professional team, but the _biggest_ professional team… I’m just- I’m just really proud of you.”

Kageyama finishes speaking with a little cough, keeping his gaze fixated on his knees, and waits for Hinata to say something.

But Hinata keeps quiet, and the only sound that can be heard is the whisper of the breeze against the window panes.

When he glances over, unable to handle the silence any longer, he finds Hinata gazing back at him, eyes wide and mouth parted just a little in shock. Kageyama clears his throat at the stunned expression, feeling embarrassment start to burn low in his gut. He rubs a hand over the back of his neck roughly, groping about for some quip, some offhand comment to loosen the sudden tension when Hinata shuffles across the sofa until he’s right next to him; a solid line of warmth along his side.

Kageyama flicks his gaze over, drawn in once again, and barely has time to blink before Hinata is crowding into his space. Vivid orange fills his vision and then Hinata is _there,_ capturing his slack mouth in a kiss. Kageyama freezes for all of a second, before his brain switches back online and he huffs through his nose, embarrassment forgotten.

He shifts on the sofa, the old springs squeaking beneath him as he turns, so that Hinata isn’t pressed up against his side anymore and is free to wiggle up to his front. He knows that Hinata is _grabby_ – he likes to be close, to press himself up to Kageyama, to pull and grab and tug until there’s no space between them at all.

Kageyama cannot pretend he doesn’t like it.

Hinata wastes no time making use of the new space he’s been awarded – he inches forward, looping one arm around Kageyama’s shoulders and using the other to brace against the cushions to keep his balance. The sofa springs protest again as their legs shift and fight for space on the cramped seat, and as Hinata’s chest bumps against his own, Kageyama grunts and presses a hand against his lower back.

He feels Hinata stutter and pause, and panic briefly sears through him – was that too bold, too forward? But then Hinata is shuddering out a breathy little sigh against him, pressing another quick kiss against his bottom lip before shifting and clambering into Kageyama’s lap properly.

Kageyama grunts, from both the sudden weight – Hinata is _heavy_ – and from the victory, splaying wide the hand that lays across his lower back, Hinata’s warmth seeping through his t-shirt.

Hinata hums and moves back in once he’s settled, peppering Kageyama with tiny, mosquito-bite kisses. Then he lifts the hand he had been using to brace against the sofa cushions, now no longer needed, and grips Kageyama’s side, the strength palpable in his fingers.

 _Grabby,_ Kageyama thinks, with some amusement, as he captures Hinata’s lower lip between his teeth, growing impatient with the tiny kisses. He tugs, gently, before sliding his free hand around the side of Hinata’s neck, encouraging him to sink into another deep kiss.

He becomes almost lost, floating contentedly in the feeling of Hinata against and on top of him, a solid, reassuring pulse of warmth, that he doesn’t notice the hand against his side sliding lower, fingers dragging across fabric. And then there’s a slight breeze against his skin, as Hinata plucks and lifts the material, and slips his fingers underneath, fingertips dragging lightly over Kageyama’s side.

Kageyama shivers, his breath shuddering against Hinata’s lips, which he feels curl against his own – a smirk of victory, no doubt.

Not to be outdone, Kageyama slides the hand against Hinata’s lower back even lower, finding the hem of his t-shirt and slipping his hand beneath it. Hinata’s bare skin is even warmer, burning hot against his palm as he rests it there. Rubbing his thumb against Hinata’s skin, Kageyama slips his tongue inside Hinata’s mouth, eager for a distraction.

(He can’t _feel_ the lower back tattoo – Hinata’s skin is the same, soft texture across the expanse of his back - but just knowing it’s there, just beneath his palm, is enough to send electricity scorching through him.)

Hinata lets out a soft little noise, somewhere between pleasure and impatience, and the arm around Kageyama’s shoulders shifts until there’s another greedy hand sliding underneath his shirt, deft fingers sneaking under his collar. Kageyama shivers, almost violently, as one hand caresses his shoulder blades and the other dances upwards, fingertips bumping lightly over his stomach.

Kageyama feels a noise of his own – deeper; a growl – burn in his throat, and he dives his hand from Hinata’s neck into his hair, tightening his fingers around flame red strands.

Tight, but not enough to pull.

It earns him another noise, needier, and then Hinata is all but panting into his mouth as he tries to press himself even closer. Fingertips skitter across the bottom of Kageyama’s chest, and when one presses – feather light – against his nipple he jerks, spine going ramrod straight at the sudden sensation.

He lets loose a sound at the same time – either a gasp or a breathy groan, he’s not entirely sure – and he feels Hinata back off, just a tiny amount. Just enough to give him space to breathe air that’s not Hinata’s. Kageyama both appreciates and mourns the loss of it, the sheer amount of heat that had been pressed up against him.

Once his heart has settled, just enough that his head doesn’t feel quite so light, Kageyama cracks open his eyes – when had he even closed them? – to peek at Hinata.

He’s met with that familiar _look._ The fire and the brimstone, that burn of golden brown. But it’s different now. Not competition, but _heat,_ deep and wanting. Hinata shifts slightly in Kageyama’s lap and tilts his head just slightly, and Kageyama feels almost like he’s being assessed.

Hinata eyes him like he does corners at a race track – wondering how he wants to _take it._

And then, just as Kageyama feels his lungs stutter out of rhythm, the flames dim, just slightly.

Hinata sits back, still very much seated on Kageyama’s lap, but just far enough that he can look up at Kageyama properly, his expression softening. His hands, still underneath Kageyama’s shirt, move again, trailing slowly, leaving goosebumps in their wake, until Hinata pulls them free.

Kageyama shivers, both from the contact and the sudden loss of it.

Hinata doesn’t go too far though, he plants his hands, flat with fingers spread wide, across Kageyama’s chest and cocks his head again. He’d look almost coy, but the smile on his face doesn’t quite match with the simmer in his eyes.

“Bedroom?” he asks, and his voice has just enough husk to it, rough from kissing, that the sound of it snatches Kageyama of his breath.

Stomach flipping, Kageyama gives himself a moment to breathe, to let air fill his lungs and oxygen seep back into his blood again. His initial response, the carnal, instinctive part of his brain, screeches a _yes_. Willingness so strong he feels his hands, still tangled in Hinata’s hair and splayed across his back, twitch with eagerness. But then rationale kicks in, the incessant, irrepressible part of himself that thinks and _thinks_.

Because Kageyama is aware, so very, very aware, that everything he and Hinata have done has moved quickly. Perhaps it’s in their natures to move fast, instinct taking over thought.

Falling for Hinata had been devastatingly easy, once the frustration and fury had died down. Once he stopped seeing an annoying upstart in the middle of nowhere and found a mystery, then pulled back that heavy, weighted curtain to see _Hinata_ , Kageyama had fallen harder than he’d ever done for anything in his life.

And yet, in the weeks since that history making tie breaker race, this is the furthest they’ve gotten with each other. There simply hasn’t been time, before now, for more than kisses and the press of hands against skin, tugging on clothes and hair. But now, _now_ there’s all the time in the world.

The racing is sorted; the pressure is off. The new season hasn’t started yet, and time is, for once, on their side.

Hinata is still watching him, quiet and oddly patient, and Kageyama swipes his tongue across his lips, suddenly feeling parched. It could be that Hinata simply wants to move somewhere comfortable – his sofa is old and not really made for two grown men to sprawl across it – but… no. That _look,_ the way his voice lilted… Kageyama is no expert, but even he knows what Hinata is asking him for.

And although his nerves still clamour, still vibrate madly until he feels like his whole body is going to shake, Kageyama suddenly _wants._ His heart starts to thud as the nervousness is temporarily overridden by dizzying realisation.

Hinata is sitting there, right on his lap, a ball of burning sunlight that Kageyama has been squinting after for weeks. _Have mercy on my Corvette_ , Kageyama thinks, gazing at Hinata in awe, but… he _wants._

Swallowing roughly, he leans forward to kiss Hinata again, slow and deep, letting it linger just enough for some courage to start to build in his chest.

“Bedroom,” he clarifies against Hinata’s lips.

He feels Hinata grin against him, bright and wicked sharp, and then Hinata is moving, swinging himself off of Kageyama’s lap in one fluid motion.

The loss of heat is palpable, and Kageyama shakes from the sudden, unexpected chill. He doesn’t have time to focus on it though, because an eager hand is reaching for his and tugging, and Kageyama finds himself stumbling to his feet and following in Hinata’s wake.

The trip from the living room to the bedroom is remarkably short, both due to how small Hinata’s house is and how Kageyama had simply blacked out during the journey. His brain is full of cotton and buzzing, disjointed thoughts, leaving him feeling stuffy and almost dizzy. The break in touching had left his brain room to wander, and by the time Hinata has pushed open the bedroom door, Kageyama can feel his nerves start to climb again, a stiffness clenching at his muscles one by one.

Perhaps Hinata spots this, or maybe he doesn’t, but even so, as they cross the threshold, he crowds in close again, dropping Kageyama’s fingers in favour of sliding his hands across either side of his face.

Hinata pulls him down into a kiss, not quite as scorching at the ones before it. This one is longer, sensual; a prelude to ones that will follow. Hands start to slip down from his cheeks, fingertips brushing along his jawline, down his neck and then there’s palms pressing down his front again, ending at his hips.

 _“Hinata-“_ Kageyama gasps as he feels searching fingers dart under his shirt again, hot palms dragging up his sides. Hinata seems to take this as encouragement and he tugs Kageyama ever so slightly closer, breaking the kiss to pepper tiny ones along his jaw.

For a moment, Kageyama is distracted by the tingling along his skin from the briefest of kisses, but then Hinata reaches his ears and drops lower suddenly, finding a sensitive spot just below his lobe and _sucks_ and Kageyama gasps again, louder.

“Hinata, _wait.”_

And Hinata does. Stops immediately and moves back. Not too far to remove himself from Kageyama’s embrace, but enough to give him space. The hands beneath his shirt disappear slowly, until Hinata is pressing them against his clothed hips instead.

“You okay?” Hinata murmurs after a moment, voice soft. He rubs his thumbs reassuringly over Kageyama’s hip bones; the pressure grounding.

Kageyama heaves in two deep breaths to steady himself and the whirling panic in his brain before he feels brave enough to look down and meet Hinata’s eyes.

Hinata tilts his head gently when their eyes meet, looking questioning and patient and perhaps just a little bit concerned.

“I, uh…” Kageyama starts, and then swallows roughly when the words dry up immediately – stoppered by sudden nerves and the tightening of his throat. He scrambles wildly for a way to phrase this adequately. He wants to do this, wants to fall into bed with Hinata and press himself as close as it’s possible to be, wans to seek heat and pleasure both with him.

But he’s also never done this, not in this way. In the cold light of day where everything is so sharp and strong and palpable.

It’s like the first time he got into a real racing car after upgrading from karts - exhilarating and terrifying in equal measure.

“It’s okay,” Hinata says, shattering the quiet. “We don’t have to! Sorry, I’m going too fast-“ he breaks off and lets go of Kageyama’s hips as he does so, eyes darting down and away.

“No! I want to, I just- _I haven’t done this before_ ,” Kageyama blurts out, the words tumbling forth against his will as Hinata starts to move away from him.

Hinata freezes in place and stares up at him, eyes round and his mouth in a perfect little ‘o’.

Kageyama’s jaw works as he croaks unintelligibly. He hovers, stuck, until what he’s just said hits him like a crash at two hundred miles an hour. He lets out another long, drawn-out wheeze and smacks his hands against his cheeks, burying his face in palms as every single drop of blood storms to his head. That isn’t- that’s _not_ what he meant to say.

He thinks he hears Hinata call his name – soft and concerned – but he can barely hear anything over the roar of his heartbeat in his ears.

Because what he said isn’t even the whole story. It’s not even _true_ , taken in isolation, but now he’s so hopelessly humiliated that he can’t make his vocal cords work to explain himself.

So he stands there, listening to his pulse pound in his eardrums and feeling sweat build between his burning cheeks and his palms, still pressed close. Wonders frantically what he should do now and what expression he should expect to see if he drops his hands – surprise? Disappointment? That awful awkwardness whether the other person is just as embarrassed as you are but it’s even _worse_ because it’s all second-hand-

And then, abruptly, the spiral is halted by two warm palms settling themselves on his upper arms. Hinata’s grip is firm yet gentle, and he rubs his hands up and down soothingly before he speaks, clear enough to be heard, but also achingly patient.

“Hey, come on. Whatever you’re thinking, I promise it’s not that bad. Just tell me, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

Kageyama sucks in air noisily through his nostrils. Hinata’s words are an immediate comfort, an instant balm to his frazzled nerves and endlessly sparking brain. He focuses on the sensation of Hinata’s hands, still swiping up and down his arms, and lets the reassurance that Hinata isn’t going to run away wash over him, until, finally, he feels brave enough to drop his hands.

He still feels terribly embarrassed, and his cheeks still burn hard enough that his skin prickles, but when he squints his eyes open and sees Hinata’s easy, relaxed smile, the relief is almost crushing.

“I…” he starts to say, and has to stop, just briefly, to swallow and clear his throat. It feels bruised almost, like emotion had somehow managed to physically crush it. He squeezes his hands in and out of fists, and tries to order the words he wants into a sentence in his head. Hinata’s hands stop rubbing his arms and grip him a little harder instead – a steady, comforting pressure.

Kageyama puffs out a sigh and tries once more. “I mean… I have. _Done this,_ I mean. Just not… sober,” he admits, speaking slowly so as to not stumble or accidently blurt anything else out too quickly.

Hinata’s smile doesn’t fade, but curiosity does spark behind his eyes as he lets out a little encouraging hum.

“That… sounds bad,” Kageyama adds, feeling a headache starting to build from how hard he’s now frowning. “It’s just. After races. It’s just a thing that… happens, sometimes. There’s alcohol and some people you know from karting, or some are completely new to you, but you’re all racers. And sometimes, when you’re tipsy, you both just-“

“Go have some fun?” Hinata supplies.

Kageyama bobs his head, grateful that Hinata seems to be following along. “Anything from making out to… more.” He coughs over the words, and squeezes his fists a little harder before continuing. “I wasn’t blind drunk or anything, and neither were any of them. It wasn’t even that often. Sometimes you won, sometimes you lost, and you just had energy to burn off. Most of the time, it wasn’t even after race, just some overly fancy obligation for a sponsor.”

“I see… so you always had some liquid courage?”

“I guess. It was just an easy way to… have some release, I suppose. They wanted to; I was willing. Nobody discussed it in the morning and nothing was awkward. It was just-“

“Mutually beneficial.” Hinata nods, his smile still kind and patient. He lets go of Kageyama’s biceps to loop his arms around his shoulders instead, holding him loosely. “I understand. And, hey, absolutely no judgement from me, okay?”

Kageyama flits his hands at his sides, undecided on whether to hold Hinata back or not. He grunts vaguely, awkwardly picking at the cotton fabric of Hinata’s shorts. Relief is starting to trickle through him, that Hinata doesn’t care, that he isn’t disappointed, but a little of the embarrassment, the awkwardness, still remains.

“And, look…” Hinata says, rocking up on his toes to kiss the side of Kageyama’s nose – a silly, affectionate peck. “We’ll do only what you’re comfortable with, okay? If it’s too much, you just have to say, that’s all! There’s no rush. I’m really not going anywhere.”

One look at Hinata’s expression again, sunbeams in a smile, and Kageyama breaks, winding his arms around Hinata’s waist to pull him close. Hinata makes a happy little noise in his ear and rubs his shoulders soothingly, waiting for Kageyama to say something, or make a move.

“What if-“ Kageyama starts to say, as another horrible thought occurs to him, “what if _you_ aren’t comfortable?”

“How do you mean?”

Kageyama involuntarily tightens his hold, awkwardness seizing him tight again. As much as Hinata’s relaxed stance on his previous experience is an incredible relief, there’s also the point that Kageyama doesn’t really know… how _good_ he is. He’s always been pleasantly buzzed, seeking what felt good rather than ensuring a good performance. What if he’s bad? What if he messes up and Hinata is so put off he never wants to try this again-

 _“Kageyama,”_ Hinata says, exasperation in his voice, “what are you worrying about now?” He slides one hand from Kageyama’s shoulder blades, up his neck and into his hair, stroking the strands gently. “If there’s anything I don’t like, I’ll just say, dummy! We can’t possibly know the perfect way of doing this the very first try! We just need to take it slow, and enjoy it, don’t you think?”

Kageyama makes a complicated, uncomfortable noise, his throat once again closing up like a vice.

Hinata squeezes him quickly before pulling back, smacking his palms against Kageyama’s cheeks softly. “Hey. I haven’t done this for ages either, you know. Not exactly much action in the middle of nowhere! So if you’re worried about, I don’t know, being _good_ \- don’t be! I don’t think I’m much more experienced than you are!”

Kageyama blinks, frozen, before Hinata taps his fingers against his cheeks, golden eyes sparkling with affection and amusement, and, abruptly, feels himself thaw.

It could be the almost mind reading, or Hinata’s laid back approach, or just the combination of easy, relaxed acceptance, but Kageyama feels his stiffness bleed from him like water down a riverbed.

In truth, he’s not entirely sure how far he can take this. But he knows how far he _wants_ to take this, how much he wants to do with Hinata – and do to him. So he sucks in a breath, steels himself, and settles his hands firmly on Hinata’s waist as he bends to recapture him in a deep kiss.

Hinata makes a satisfied, deeply pleased sound in the back of his throat, moving his hands from Kageyama’s cheeks and back into hair in one fluid motion.

Encouraged, Kageyama nudges Hinata backwards, hoping his muscle memory is good enough that he won’t trip.

Hinata shuffles back easily, breaking contact only to breathe, until the back of his legs bump against the bed. Then he pulls back, pecks kisses around the corners of Kageyama’s mouth, his nose, his eyelids, before drawing back entirely so he falls backwards on the bed. Making come hither motions with his hands, he shuffles back, pushing along the bedspread with his feet.

Kageyama swallows and clambers onto the bed in return, crawling across the duvet until they’re close again.

Wasting no time, Hinata dives in for another kiss, this one burning – his intent blazing hot – and sneaks his hands back up Kageyama’s shirt, his fingers raking across his back, digging into his muscles.

Kageyama gasps into Hinata’s mouth and jolts at the contact, hands jerking where they lay pressed against the bed covers. Losing coordination, he finds himself simply kneeling there, Hinata nudging little kisses against his jaw, as two hands, hot like burning coals, explore his torso.

It feels – he shudders, thought shattering as two thumbs press against his nipples – it feels _amazing_ , but also-

It’s a lot. It’s so _much_ , everything at once, he’s never had to feel this without alcohol dimming his senses before, and it’s so good but also so overwhelming-

“Kageyama?”

Instantly, the touches halt, until it’s just Hinata’s lips pressed against the shell of his ear and the backs of fingers dancing down his sides – the touch so very gentle.

“You okay?”

“Yes,” Kageyama croaks, voice scratchy and tight. Because he is, he’s _fine_ , it’s just- a lot.

“Do you want to stop? You’ve gone very still…”

 _“No,”_ Kageyama groans, frustration at himself flaring. He just- needs a minute, maybe…

Hinata strokes his sides again, comforting. “Too fast?” he guesses.

Kageyama considers this. It is, just a bit, too fast. It’s like getting into a sports car for the first time after graduating from karting. Strapping into a machine that’s built for pure speed and feeling the full force of a V8 engine hurtling you to a hundred miles an hour in under four seconds. The adrenaline is addictive, alluring, but it’s also frightening, the very first time.

“It’s alright, it’s just- a lot,” he admits, chokes the words out before he can lose his nerve.

“What do you want to do?” Hinata coaxes, slipping his hands out from underneath Kageyama’s shirt to run his hands down his clothed back instead.

“Can I just… touch you?”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, Kageyama regrets them.

Once again, his cheeks ignite, and he wrestles with wanting to bury and hide his face somewhere – in his hands again, or the duvet perhaps – and clenches his fists in the material of Hinata’s shirt. With a tiny groan, he compromises and pitches forward until he can bury his face briefly into Hinata’s broad shoulder, knotting his fingers tightly in the soft cotton covering Hinata’s back.

He didn’t- he didn’t mean to phrase it like _that._

He feels Hinata laugh, the sound huffing by his ear where his face is still buried, and fingers card soothingly through his hair.

“We can do whatever you want,” Hinata murmurs, easy going and kind, and Kageyama has to twist Hinata’s t-shirt between his fingers a little harder as relief hits him hard.

Waiting until the burn in his face leaves and the heavy, almost painful thud to his heart starts to ease, Kageyama loosens his iron grip on Hinata’s shirt. Pressing a tiny kiss to the skin he finds by Hinata’s collar, earning him a tiny shiver-

“Whatever you want,” Hinata murmurs again, his lips brushing the shell of Kageyama’s ear.

This time it’s Kageyama’s turn to shiver – a violent one that shakes his bones and floods his body with liquid heat. He shuffles on the bedspread until he’s sitting back from Hinata and plants his hands lightly on his hips again, spreading his fingers wide.

“Can you sit back against the pillows?” he manages to ask, the words rasping over a clumsy tongue.

Hinata hums in agreement and wiggles backwards until he bumps back against the headboard, looking up at Kageyama curiously.

“Can I just…” Kageyama starts to ask, before his throat closes up again and wrenches him into silence. Awkwardness sinks its claws in deep once again and he scowls. Reaching for the pillows scattered around the head of the bed, he plumps and pushes them, arranging them into a pile behind Hinata so that he has a small mountain of bedding to lean back against.

“Touch?” Hinata offers when he finishes, not quite reclining all the way back just yet, but not sitting up straight either. He snatches Kageyama’s wrists before he moves out of the way and runs his hands up and down his forearms. “Would that be easier?”

Kageyama hovers, before jerking his head. “Just to start,” he says, forcing his voice box into action. He coughs and jerks his arms, knocking Hinata’s hands away, but just so that he can reach for the hem of his t-shirt uninterrupted.

“To ease in,” he tries to explain, and tweaks the soft cotton of Hinata’s shirt between his fingers harshly when he cannot summon any more words, frustration sparking angrily in his chest.

“Hmmm, I understand,” Hinata says, quite unexpectedly, and Kageyama’s head snaps up.

“It’s too much right?” Hinata goes on to say with a little shrug. The smile on his face is _so_ kind, Kageyama feels a sudden, ridiculous urge to bury himself in it. “All at once? It’s easier to start off in control, and then you can just let go…” The smile widens just a bit, mischief sparking in warm, honey brown eyes. “It’s like drifting right?”

Kageyama blinks, uncomprehending at first, until the movement of a drift, of a perfect glide across loose dirt and sand, plays out in his mind, his muscles twitching with the memory, and then he _gets it._ Control, constant and sure, along a familiar straight until a corner rises up to meet you, and then just… letting go. Putting your trust into something else – _someone_ else – and relying on them to carry you through to the other side.

Shuddering out a breath, he darts forward and plants a quick, grateful kiss before he tugs at Hinata’s shirt insistently.

 _“Off,”_ he growls. Now that Hinata gets it, impatience is suddenly rising within him, drowning out his nerves just enough for _need_ to rise again, hot and sharp.

He just catches a glimpse of a wicked smile before Hinata is rolling his torso up and forward, giving himself enough space to grab the bottom of his shirt and rip it up and off in one swift motion. The cotton rumples his hair as it passes, sending it into further disarray – a blur of fire on Hinata’s head – and Kageyama’s fingers twitch with the urge to grab it. The shirt drops somewhere on the floor and Hinata tips back at speed until he’s nestled back against the pillows, landing with a muffled _fwump,_ smiling up at Kageyama almost lazily.

Kageyama sits back on his heels, buries his hands into the duvet, and gives himself a moment to just _stare._ This time, the sudden dryness in his mouth feels perfectly right as he sweeps his gaze from Hinata’s bare neck all the way down to his waistband, taking in every inch, every single centimetre, with deep greediness.

He remembers, oh so vividly, the image of Hinata on the roof of the _Cosy Cone Motel_ , shirtless and sweaty, with that smile and that _tattoo._ The sight had haunted him for days, locked in his head and at the forefront of his dreams but now it’s here – right in front of him and Kageyama can _touch_ now.

Almost without realising, Kageyama unclenches his hands from the duvet and reaches out with trembling fingers until his fingertips brush Hinata’s collarbone. Then he drags them down, touch feather light, across golden skin, feeling the firmness of each and every muscle, until he reaches the grooves of his hips again.

Keeping his hands steady, he flicks his eyes back up to Hinata, who matches him with sparking browns and one crooked eyebrow.

“Too much?” Hinata asks, the slightest of husks to his voice, and a cocky edge to his smile.

“Not _enough,”_ Kageyama rumbles before he can stop himself, and bows his spine so he can press an open-mouthed kiss to Hinata’s collarbone, relishing in the gasp he gets when he sucks at the skin there.

“Wait,” Hinata pants, just as Kageyama flattens his tongue against his skin.

Kageyama draws back, just a bit, presses a tiny kiss to where he was lavishing, and waits.

Two hands snake up and tug at his shirt where it hangs forward by his belly.

 _“Off,”_ Hinata demands, voice commanding under the breathlessness.

Kageyama laments the pause this will take but complies, levering himself up just enough to rip his shirt off and fling it into the depths of the room, uncaring of where it lands. Task complete, he begins to lower himself back down to continue his conquest when Hinata’s gaze catches his eye and demands his attention.

“What?” he grunts, hovering in place, unable to move.

Because Hinata’s eyes are once again alight, burning with desire and a glint that’s so close to being animalistic that Kageyama sweeps his tongue across his lips unbidden as he watches that gaze drag across his bare body.

“I won’t until you want me to,” Hinata says, and the sound of his voice sends fire straight to Kageyama’s abdomen, heat rapidly pooling in his groin. Low, deep and _wanting._ Hinata’s _never_ sounded like this before. “But damn I want to touch you _so_ badly.”

Kageyama shudders, his nerves jangling with something more carnal than anxieties, and he switches up his angle, capturing Hinata in a fierce kiss; clashing their mouths together faster than intended, teeth bumping against lips.

Hinata doesn’t seem to care; he groans deeply into Kageyama’s mouth, and buries the fingers of one hand into his hair, gripping tightly. The angle corrects, and Kageyama feels a small noise of his own bubble its way out of his throat.

Pulling back, Kageyama pecks the side of Hinata’s mouth lightly, feeling the fingers in his hair tighten once again before they retreat. Then he moves down and to the side, tracing the line of Hinata’s jaw with his lips, skimming over the skin. He finds a small drop of sweat, trickling down from Hinata’s temple to his jaw and then down across his pulse point and chases it, catching it with his tongue as it slips down the side of his throat.

He can hear Hinata gasping quietly above him, little hiccups in his breath as he inches downwards, kissing and suckling at sweat-salty skin until he reaches his collarbone again. Nuzzling at the hollow of Hinata’s throat, Kageyama trails tiny, fragile kisses across the ridges of his clavicles before sucking in a deep, greedy breath, inhaling the scent of him.

With great effort, Kageyama raises himself up, just a bit, just so that he can _look._

Now that his nerves are at bay and what he wants is here, in focus, he gives himself time to just _admire._

Sitting back even further, he reaches up with both hands and settles his palms at the top of Hinata’s shoulders and drags them down, pressure firm, sliding his hands over hot, tanned skin, as his eyes devour every inch.

Kageyama thinks about every decision and fancy Hinata has ever had in the past and thanks each and every one of them for giving him a manual job for so many years. The hard work shows in his body, in his strong muscles and sturdy build, and Kageyama suppresses a groan at the thought of Hinata’s shoulders and abdominal muscles rippling in the sunshine.

And speaking of sunshine, he thinks furiously, as he slides his hands back up Hinata’s torso towards his shoulders, the things it’s done to Hinata’s skin: _sinful._ The golden tan, the dusting of cocoa dust freckles across his face, his shoulders, his arms. A few pigmented spots speckle his torso too; on his waist and along his belly, little dots made darker by hours in the sun.

He thinks about Hinata working on his car, popping the hood open to tweak something in the engine bay, wearing nothing but loose shorts with the desert sun beating down overhead. Kageyama groans as the image sharpens in his mind: sweat dampened temples, bunched shoulder muscles and that _tattoo_ riding low on his back.

Swiping one hand down at speed, fingers bumping over a nipple as he goes, earning him a full body twitch, he stops at Hinata’s hip and digs his fingers into the flesh there. As close as he can get to the inking on Hinata’s back without manoeuvring him.

Hinata squirms a little below him, quiet aside from his uneven breaths, and Kageyama trails the fingers of his other hand along Hinata’s arm, this time his touch gentle. When he reaches Hinata’s hand, he splays his open palm against his, briefly marvelling at the difference in size, before threading his fingers in the slots between Hinata’s and holding it loosely. Hinata grips him back tight; his hands are small, but they are strong.

Kageyama looks at their clasped hands, thinks about those same fingers curled around a steering wheel. How they look when Hinata is driving: white knuckle grip against a gearstick or his wheel. When he dangles them outside his open window while cruising, lax and brushing against golden bodywork.

Affection, deep and sudden, collapses over him like a wave, and he brings their hands up. Drags his lips across Hinata’s knuckles in soft almost-kisses. These perfect racing hands, covered in callouses and minute scars from years of labour. He hopes they never change.

Planting one last kiss on the back of Hinata’s hand, Kageyama draws back, keeping their fingers knitted together, and moves back towards Hinata’s chest. Just as he reaches it, lips millimetres from Hinata’s skin, he feels Hinata’s other hand slide into his hair, touch gentle, and cup the back of his head.

Kageyama lets out a sigh, soft and breathy. He can’t see it, but he can envision Hinata’s eyes on him right now: deep pudding brown and heady, eyelids half-lidded.

Slowly, he kisses down Hinata’s chest, across his pecs and down across his breastbone. Hinata’s ribs quake beneath him with shivery breaths, and when Kageyama seals his lips over a dusky pink nub, he hears air being expelled sharply like a gunshot.

Hinata’s heartbeat thuds loudly, just audible, and Kageyama rubs his forehead over where his heart sits, swiping over his tongue over the nub again. The fingers in his hair tighten briefly, pulling at the strands, and he takes his cue to move, slipping downwards.

Pressing open mouthed, messy kisses across Hinata’s belly, Kageyama slips lower and lower, shuffling down the bedspread until his chin brushes the waistband of Hinata’s shorts. Pausing to poke his tongue into Hinata’s navel – earning him a breathy giggle – Kageyama pulls back and stops his movements, feeling suddenly nervous again.

There is a definite line in Hinata’s shorts now, a ridge that hadn’t been so obvious before.

He swallows roughly.

Perhaps sensing his dwindling courage, Hinata squeezes the fingers interlaced with his tightly and Kageyama squeezes back. Abruptly, Hinata suddenly lets go of his hand, but Kageyama doesn’t have time to mourn the loss of the grounding contact before Hinata is slipping his hand into his hair, joining its twin, and running his fingers soothingly through the glossy strands.

Slipping his eyes closed, Kageyama focuses on the sensation of blunt nails sliding over his scalp, letting the repetitive motions settle the clamour of his heartbeat in his ears.

And then, once he starts to feel settled again, he peeks at Hinata’s waistband through parted lids and grips it with surprisingly steady fingers.

“Lift,” he commands, voice rough.

Hinata does so – lifts his hips up and drops his hands from Kageyama’s hair to plant them in the bedsheets instead.

Curling his fingers around stretchy cotton, Kageyama dips his fingertips in the band of Hinata’s underwear just beneath, ready to pull down both, but then nerves seize him again. Heaving in a deep breath in and out to fight off the ice in his veins, he grips the shorts tighter and slides them down in one movement.

He worries, briefly, whether that was a silly thing to do, that Hinata will find it weird he’s been divulged of his shorts and not his underwear as well, but when he peeks back up at him Hinata is simply smiling again.

It’s languid and gooey, and Hinata lowers his hips back down to the bed after kicking his shorts free of his ankles, blinking slowly down at Kageyama, eyes like melted toffee.

Emboldened, Kageyama bows his spine and nuzzles the soft baby hair just underneath Hinata’s navel and drags his hands down his hips, over his underwear and across strong thighs. The muscles there quiver as he digs his fingers into firm flesh, grazing his teeth over sharp hip bones. Inching downwards, he flicks his eyes to the bulge in tight black cotton, and feels all the saliva in his mouth evaporate in both anxiety and anticipation.

Later, he’ll get to it later.

Slipping further down the bedspread, Kageyama plants his hands by Hinata’s knees and nudges his legs apart gently, settling into the space between them. Slowly, reverently, he plants a kiss on the soft skin of Hinata’s inner thigh, dragging the tip of his nose along the bulge that appears as Hinata tenses his quads involuntarily.

He’s spent far too long thinking about Hinata’s legs – strong and sure and _thick_ in shorts and tight overalls. It feels like victory in and of itself, finally getting to touch them.

Lavishing attention to the meat of Hinata’s inner thigh, Kageyama strokes his hands down, mapping out the muscles of Hinata’s legs until he reaches his calves and cups them. Slowly, after leaving a parting nibble, he inches down, alternating between each leg and peppering them with kisses.

When he reaches Hinata’s feet, he stops, moving to cradle his right ankle with both hands. The joint looks and feels no different than it should do, save for the shiny white scarring that mars the skin. Gently, Kageyama bends his head, and places the lightest of kisses against the marks.

He is, in some strange and selfish way, almost grateful for the ankle injury. Because without it, Hinata never would have lost his Vitoline drive and never would have ended up in the desert. Wouldn’t have been there when Kageyama crashed into the town in the middle of the night and woke him up again.

Made him fall in love twice over with just the sheer force of his personality.

Kissing Hinata’s ankle once more, he pauses, suddenly realising that he’s run out of body. Clearing his throat and trying not to look too visibly awkward, he snakes his way back up again, trailing fingertips, his lips, and his tongue all along sweat-salty skin. He makes it back up to Hinata’s stomach, the muscles there heaving with the force of Hinata’s breath, and chances a look back up at his face.

Hinata’s face is twisted into an expression Kageyama cannot discern.

Cherry cheeked and mouth parted as soft _whuffs_ of air pant in and out, Hinata’s eyes are lidded but also visibly shiny. The melted toffee look has been replaced with something altogether brighter, more vivid. And as Kageyama gazes longer, Hinata closes his mouth, his lips twisting into a wobbly line, brow knitting and unknitting, like he can’t decide whether or not he wants to frown.

Kageyama lifts his head fully, concern starting to prickle.

“What’s wrong?” he whispers, as concern starts to sharpen into fright.

Hinata said he would _say something_ if he was uncomfortable, and here he is looking very much not comfortable and great, Kageyama has done something wrong _already-_

“No one’s done this with me before,” Hinata whispers back, his voice thready and low.

“Oh…” Kageyama wonders frantically whether that means ‘stop’. “Is it bad?” he hazards, and fights to keep his hands still where they lay against Hinata’s waist. “Sorry, I’m… being weird.”

Hinata startles then, blinking sharply as his eyes spring wider. Slowly, he sits up just enough so that he can reach down, stomach muscles rippling and skin folding into cute little creases, and cradles both hands against Kageyama’s jaw. Gently, he tugs, urging Kageyama up and closer.

Kageyama goes willingly, clutching at Hinata’s waist tighter and using it to pull himself along until his nose brushes Hinata’s. He’s too close now to see what expression Hinata is making, but he figures it can’t be all bad as he’s drawn to a slow, deep kiss. The passion from before is still there, simmering just beneath the surface, but this kiss is _different._

It’s long and heated, but the rush isn’t there, filled with something more, something better.

Hinata swipes his thumbs across Kageyama’s cheekbones and suddenly he’s transported, back to the middle of the International Speedway, where he got to kiss Hinata for the very first time.

“No,” Hinata murmurs, as he pulls back just enough to speak, “it isn’t weird.”

Kageyama shudders, from head to toe and feels his heart trip over itself in his chest. Hinata’s words are soaked in such affection, in such understanding, that he feels every last bit of remaining anxiety drain away. Slip away from his body like oil slick on a dusty race track.

His hands move, slipping from Hinata’s waist and travelling lower, the tips of his fingers dipping just below the waistband of Hinata’s underwear, digging into the hot skin he finds there.

“Lift,” he grunts against Hinata’s mouth.

Hinata plants another kiss, messy and uncoordinated, against his bottom lip and resettles back against the pillows, lifting his hips once again.

Hooking his thumbs around the band, Kageyama grabs fistfuls of the fabric and tugs, pulling the last remaining bit of fabric down and off.

This time, when he stares downwards, to find Hinata hard and pink against his belly, it’s without any of the terror that had gripped him before. Heat sears through him, burning and wanting, and he frames Hinata’s dick between his hands, mind cartwheeling with ideas and desire and what he wants to do _first._

The brush of hair by his fingers catches his attention and he flicks his eyes to the tufts leading from Hinata’s navel to his base briefly, unthinking, before glancing back again, feeling vaguely stunned.

 _“Oh,”_ he squeaks out.

“What do you mean, ‘ _oh’_?” Hinata demands, knocking his knee against him irritably.

Kageyama runs his fingers across the hairs again, completely missing how Hinata’s dick twitches, just a little bit. “They’re ginger.”

“They’re…” Hinata sits up a little again, the creases reappearing in his belly, and frowns down at himself. “Of course they are? What on earth are you talking about-“

“I didn’t realise you’re a natural redhead,” Kageyama comments lightly.

“… What.”

“I thought you dyed your hair.” Kageyama is starting to feel a little disconnected from his body, having this conversation.

“You-“ Hinata starts to say, and then breaks off suddenly, a loud snort ripping out of him.

Kageyama pouts – no, _scowls_ – as Hinata starts to giggle, his body shaking with the force of his laughter, face crumpled in amusement.

It would be kind of cute, if Kageyama wasn’t the one being laughed at.

“It’s not _that_ strange!” he protests, as Hinata’s giggles start to bloom into full laughter, loud and bright. He lifts his hands from Hinata’s groin and gestures the area instead, trying to ignore how his cheeks burn. He is _not_ pointing at Hinata’s dick; he is pointing at- never mind.

“You have a tattoo!” he bursts out, trying to make his point. Hinata laughs even harder and he raises his voice to be heard over it. “You have a huge tattoo right over your ass and you race a bright yellow sports car at two hundred miles an hour on dirt! It’s not so weird to think you might dye your hair!”

Because Hinata is, at his heart, a daredevil. He’s confident and somewhat wild and has done so many things that Kageyama has not, and well… Kageyama had just _assumed..._

“Why would I dye it _orange?”_ Hinata wheezes, but starting to come down from his high at least.

Kageyama grumbles unintelligibly, feeling grumpiness start to build swiftly. Why did he have to say something _now?_

“Sorry, I’m sorry.” Still snickering, Hinata sits up all the way in one fluid movement, looping his hands around Kageyama’s upper arms and tugging, encouraging him to follow. Kageyama does so, until they’ve both risen to their knees, and Hinata lets go of his biceps.

“You idiot,” Hinata says fondly, looping his arms around Kageyama’s shoulders and pulling him closer so that their chests bump together. Kageyama shivers a little at the contact. “Where would I even get hair dye in the middle of the desert?”

Kageyama squints grumpily, noting the orange tint to Hinata’s eyelashes and his brows, and feels even more stupid than he did before.

“Oh shut up,” he grumbles, but allows Hinata to kiss him with no complaint, sighing through his nose when teasing little hands swipe their way across his shoulders and over his scapula.

Hinata giggles some more, his lips trembling against Kageyama’s, and the sound and feel of it is just infectious enough that Kageyama feels himself huffing back. Hinata just seems to have this knack, this uncanny ability to make him feel comfortable without even trying – unless he is deliberately trying to rile him up.

“Kageyama…” Hinata says, his voice sobering suddenly. He drags his hands downwards, palms hot and insistent, until his fingers catch on the waistband of Kageyama’s jeans. He tugs. “Can I?”

Kageyama groans – because _yes_ – and nods his head enough that Hinata gets the message, slotting their lips together in another heated kiss.

He feels Hinata’s fingers move, quick and deft, undoing his fly at impressive speed and grabbing at the waistband of jeans and underwear both, shoving everything down with one efficient push. Kageyama gasps as air hits his groin, dick jumping, and regretfully breaks their kiss just long enough to kick his clothing free.

“How do you not die in jeans, honestly…” Hinata is muttering, and Kageyama surges forward again to shut him up, lips clashing messily.

Now that Hinata is completely and utterly available to him, Kageyama palms his hands down his back greedily, feeling all of the skin he hasn’t gotten to explore yet. He drags them lower, until they sit just at the top of the swell of Hinata’s ass and he cannot stopper the tiny groan that rises in his throat. That _tattoo…_

“Kageyama,” Hinata is gasping again. His hands are dancing around Kageyama’s shoulders, gripping and quivering. “Can… I? Are you okay, can I touch now?”

Kageyama nips at Hinata’s lip.

 _“Yes,”_ he growls out, a bolt of thrill shooting through him. The nerves have gone, and his body is humming and ready, every single fibre focused on the man in his arms.

Hinata lets out a long, relieved moan, breaking the kiss to duck his head under Kageyama’s and press hot, desperate kisses along his jaw instead. Greedy hands slide down, blunt nails dragging across skin, gripping at Kageyama like he’s the last thing Hinata will ever see in the desert. Burning fingertips press into Kageyama’s hips, making them twitch, and then they swipe around, slipping into the space between their bellies.

One fingertip brushes, teasingly light, across Kageyama’s dick, and he gasps again – harsh and loud – hips jolting again involuntarily.

Hinata steadies him with his other hand, swipes his tongue across his throat. “Okay?” he whispers against his skin, teeth grazing Kageyama’s pulse point.

 _“Yes,”_ Kageyama snarls out again, as something resembling competitiveness – rather than bravery – rises up within him and moves his own hand, swiping past the swell of one butt cheek.

He finds the base of Hinata’s dick and brushes his fingers against it, before trailing them up his length, delighting in the whining noise Hinata groans out at the touch. Emboldened, he circles his fingers around the length of him, running his thumb slowly up velvety skin.

Together, their hands move, in a disjointed, jerky rhythm – chasing pleasure rather than finesse.

Hinata whines in his throat, little noises popping out with his gasps, and he rocks forwards, mouthing at Kageyama’s neck, dragging his lips across his Adam’s apple. Kageyama shudders against him, wrist jerking at odd intervals, clutching his fingers tighter around Hinata’s waist in a desperate attempt to ground himself.

It starts easy, liquid heat pooling in his groin, but then it starts to build, getting hotter as pressure starts to build in his belly and Kageyama lets loose a noise that’s more a whimper than a moan, thighs trembling terribly beneath him.

Perhaps Hinata senses his spiral, because he swipes his tongue across his throat and travels up, growling into his ear, “My turn.” His voice pitches deep like his car’s engine and he crowds in further into Kageyama’s space.

Kageyama eyelids flutter open as Hinata drops his hand from his length and then grabs at his shoulders, pushing and manoeuvring him. The kisses continue, little desperate things that are scattered onto any bit of skin Hinata can find and reach, and he continues to nudge and push, his touch insistent but still somehow gentle until Kageyama moves where he wants him. Kageyama shivers again, his senses overwhelmed by how, even when Hinata is taking control, he still does so with so much care.

“Lie back,” Hinata says, his voice trapped somewhere between a request and a demand.

Kageyama does so, reclines until he’s lying, settling back against the pillows, trying to catch his breath and calm his rabbiting heart in this brief pause. Hinata nods above him, seemingly satisfied, and then moves out of Kageyama’s line of sight, stretching across the bed covers for something just out of reach.

Kageyama heaves in a few more breaths, before he glances over to the side and feels his heart rate kick up all over again.

Hinata has his back to him, leaning across to snap open the drawer in his battered bedside table and rummage around inside, and the _view-_

The view is exquisite.

Lying down on his side, back twisted up in a sensuous curve, the muscles in his back rippling beneath golden skin. There are some marks across the tanned expanse – pink lines from Kageyama’s nails and fingers, and splatterings of freckles, arranged in no particular pattern.

Kageyama lets his eyes drag downwards until they hit Hinata’s tattoo, sitting stark in the middle of his lower back, and feels saliva flood his mouth.

He knew the inking sat low on Hinata, the artwork disappearing into his waistband even with his shirt off, but now Hinata is here, completely naked, he can see for the first time just _how_ low it sits. It coils around Hinata’s hips, stretches across his lower back and starts to brush the very top of his ass cheeks, tendrils of ink sitting pretty just above each swell.

Kageyama is overcome by a very sudden urge to launch over and sink his teeth into the inked flesh there, to dig his fingers in deep and _knead-_

“How much crap do you have in that drawer?” he croaks out, desperate for a sudden distraction before his mind can betray him any further.

“Shut up,” Hinata shoots back without any heat, before letting out a noise of victory and rolling back over.

Kageyama has just enough time to mourn the disappearance of the tattoo before Hinata is suddenly above him and commanding his attention in an altogether different way – with the bottle he has clasped in his hand.

It’s a particularly battered bottle of lube, the outside of it crinkled and bent from the who-knows-how-many-times Hinata has used it before now.

Kageyama swallows thickly. _Oh,_ he thinks, somewhat deliriously. They’re just. Jumping straight to that.

He tries to remember, as panic starts to fog his brain, when the last time was that he even got _close_ to this. Tries to think which he’d be more comfortable with, which he’d be better at, before something in his expression must give him away because Hinata huffs out a laugh.

“Not tonight,” Hinata says, voice quiet and reassuring, and darts forward to press a kiss to Kageyama’s cheek. “Unless…” he draws back just enough that he can look Kageyama in the eye and cocks his head. “You want to?”

Kageyama bites down on the inside of his cheek, hard enough for it to hurt, and tries to make his body and brain align. Hinata’s words are like liquid heat, pooling in his groin and making him leak against his belly, but at the same time cause his mind to stall, gears screeching to a halt. He wants to, he _really_ wants to, but-

He’ll need to work up to it. Just _this_ is almost too much, and he doesn’t want to ruin anything tonight by having to stop.

“Maybe another time?” he rasps.

“All the time in the world,” Hinata replies, eyes butter soft, and he plants another kiss on Kageyama’s cheek before rocking back onto his heels and squirting a dollop of lube into his palm.

Kageyama’s fingers twitch in the bedsheet as he watches Hinata slick himself, once again biting down on his lip. There’s another gurgle of lube and Hinata flicks his eyes up to meet Kageyama’s, questioning, nudging Kageyama’s knees further apart and moving his hand towards his groin but not touching yet, silently asking for permission.

Kageyama nods as best he can, the movement snappy and jarring, and Hinata’s smile turns a little sharper, burning bright with eagerness, as slicks Kageyama with one efficient pull.

Hinata matches Kageyma’s eye once more – checking – before he aligns their hips and starts to move down.

Every muscle in Kageyama’s body seems to tense with anticipation, hovering in this brief moment, before Hinata lowers himself down and glides against him, and every single nerve in Kageyama’s body sets itself on fire.

Hinata gasps above him, breathy and high, before letting out a moan – long and low – and Kageyama feels his hips twitch in return. Hinata’s made plenty of noises tonight, but none like _that._

Lowering himself even further, Hinata rests his forearms on the pillows either side of Kageyama’s head, bracketing him in, and pants harshly. He waits, for all of a millisecond, before rolling his hips experimentally, their dicks sliding together easily, helped by the extra slick from the lube, and lets out another rough moan.

Kageyama shudders, so hard he swears his bones rattle, as heat swells up inside him so rapidly he feels he might just melt. Smacking his hands against the bedspread, he reaches up suddenly, digging his fingers into Hinata’s waist so tightly his knuckles go bone white.

“Okay?” Hinata gasps out, rocking against Kageyama once more before forcing himself to stop, every muscle in his body quivering like a bow string.

“Yes, _yes,_ don’t _stop-“_ Kageyama growls, forearms vibrating with the effort not to grip Hinata harder – he doesn’t want to leave bruises – and rocks his own hips up, chasing that body melting pleasure once again.

Hinata moans again – higher, breathier – and bends his head down, crashing his forehead against Kageyama’s, panting in his space. He jolts against him, hips slip sliding, mindlessly chasing pleasure, before he starts up a rhythm, rolling down as Kageyama arcs up to meet him.

Kageyama’s rib cage rattles as he heaves for breath, tiny noises escaping past his lips as pleasure sears up and down his spine. Wrenching his hands down from Hinata’s waist, he strains his arms lower, lower, until his hands find Hinata’s ass and he grabs at his cheeks. Hinata lets out a particularly keening noise above him and he takes it as encouragement, kneading the firm flesh beneath his palms as they rock together.

“Kag-Kage _yama_ -“ Hinata groans, voice tight. His head slips to the side, slipping off Kageyama’s forehead until his lips are by his ear, a constant stream of nonsense babbling out.

“I’m _so_ happy,” Hinata whimpers, “I’ve never been so happy, I never thought I’d get to race again and never ever against _you_. I watched all your races, and you were this arrogant – _fuck-“_

Kageyama swears himself, hips stuttering. Hinata _never_ curses, and the word does things to him, causes that tight spiral of heat in his gut to coil even tighter.

“This arrogant guy but you’re not and you’re good, you’re _so good_ , I can’t wait to race against you. The way you drive, it’s so _hot,_ you asshole, who looks that good while driving, I _can’t-“_ he breaks off to whine, low in his throat, his thrusts against Kageyama getting erratic as he gets closer. “You’re so different in person, dammit, you’re _amazing,_ Kageyama-“

Kageyama jolts, the praise searing through him like a lightning bolt. He lets go of Hinata’s rear and flings his hands back, twisting his fingers into pillows beside him instead with a white knuckle grip. The noises in his throat seep out now, little moans and deep gasps, as the coil within him twists tighter and tighter.

He never normally gets close this fast, usually taking so much longer to reach his climax, but something about Hinata just undoes him. Drives him to places he never thought he would go, and it’s all just so much, so different. Everything is sharp, boiling. It’s like seeking pleasure from the sun itself, burning him alive.

“So good,” Hinata sobs in his ear. “You’re _so good_ Kageyama…”

Kageyama’s back bows, spine arching, as the sound of Hinata’s voice seeps into him. Eyes scrunching shut, he scrabbles at the pillows, hips rocking madly against Hinata’s, grinding as best he can and driving himself dizzy with it.

Another whisper of his name in his ear, and Kageyama sobs himself as mind numbing pleasure hits him like a wave, washing over him in a blaze of heat. Toes curl and fingers spasm, as he shakes and shakes and rides it out, spilling warm between their stomachs.

It lasts for so long it seems, pulses of heat and pleasure making his nerves sing and muscles twitch and jump until it stops, leaving him feeling like a puddle, melting into the mattress.

For a moment, he just breathes, ribs heaving with the force of his orgasm, and lets the shattered pieces of his brain meld themselves back together again. And then, as the fractures of himself knit back together, he squints open his eyes, and loses his breath all over again.

Hinata hovers above him, hand reaching down to stroke himself, face twisted up in pleasure and he looks- absolutely gorgeous. Lost in pleasure and beautiful, somehow shining bright even in the low light of the room, a tiny beacon right here in Kageyama’s space.

It’s not so hard, really, Kageyama thinks, as he undoes his iron grip on a pillow and reaches down, knocking Hinata’s hand out of the way gently. To come to the conclusion of how he had come undone so easily. It wasn’t even the sobriety – though the sharpness of everything certainly helped – it was Hinata.

This intriguing, talented, infuriatingly beautiful person, that Kageyama had somehow gotten so lucky to just find in the middle of nowhere and then got to _keep._

Curling his fingers around Hinata’s length, he moves his wrist, drawing pleasure out of him and watching, in silent rapture, as Hinata’s face crumples briefly and then falls slack, his hips jerking against Kageyama’s hand for a moment before he spills over his fingers.

Kageyama coaxes him through it, drinking in his face, his noises. Committing them to memory as yet another beautiful sight he’s found out here in the desert.

Hinata gasps for air as he finishes, and manages to hold his own weight for a few moments before his arms shake where they bracket Kageyama’s head, body trembling once before he tumbles, landing heavily on top of Kageyama’s chest.

Kageyama grunts when he lands, but palms a sweaty hand down his slick back anyway, panting for air the best he can with Hinata crushing him into the mattress.

“Hmm…” Hinata hums, once he’s caught some of his breath back, straining up from his place sprawled across Kageyama’s front to drag his lips across his jaw; messy and hot and uncoordinated.

Kageyama harrumphs and grips him underneath his armpits, using what remains of his strength to heave him up properly so he can slide their lips together for an actual kiss. Hinata continues to hum happily against him, trailing sticky fingers across whatever piece of Kageyama’s skin that’s in reach, kissing him with small, contented smooches.

With a sigh, Kageyama tilts his head and buries his nose into Hinata’s hair and closes his eyes, content to float in the moment.

Normally, once the main event had finished with anybody else, Kageyama would roll from the bed – or wherever he had ended up – clean himself up perfunctorily, and then leave. No words, no questions, no lingering touches.

But now it’s different, and for all of his anxiety, his panic at the very beginning, this way is absolutely, undeniably _better._ It’s so much, in the cold light of day, but it’s so good too, that sensation of falling so hard with someone it feels like your bones might shatter under the force of it.

Hinata wiggles against him then, making a noise that sounds more like a groan of disgust rather than contentment. “Let me up,” he whines, squirming.

Kageyama lifts his arms and rocks his head back obediently, eyebrows knitting together.

“I hate being sweaty and sticky,” Hinata mutters, either in complaint or explanation, Kageyama’s not entirely sure which, but he does rock forwards as he levers himself up, planting a kiss on Kageyama’s cheek. “Shower?”

“Together?” Kageyama asks, before he can stop himself.

Hinata blinks, before a wicked smile bursts across his face, somewhat dulled by the post-release haze that still hangs over him.

“Well, if you want,” he teases with a wink, before pushing himself up in one swift motion and swinging his legs over the bed.

Kageyama lies there for a bit longer, feeling too boneless and a little too frazzled from what’s just happened and the image of showering together to want to move just yet, and contents himself with watching Hinata move around the room. Now the urgency has left, he’s free to just admire him, his figure and his form, as Hinata rifles around in the bedside table again and produces a battered box of tissues.

“Come on,” Hinata urges, voice light and teasing, after they’ve both wiped themselves clean. “Up you get you slug.”

Kageyama grumbles, but allows himself to be pulled up when Hinata tugs him, and pads in his wake towards the bathroom, stifling a yawn in his palm. Now they’ve… finished, exhaustion is starting to pull at him, his body feeling heavy in a deliciously satisfying way, his skin tingling pleasantly.

They reach the bathroom, Hinata clicking on the light, and Kageyama squints under the sudden fluorescent lighting before he frowns, and blurts out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Hinata, your shower is miniscule.”

Kageyama looks at the tiny cubicle with no small amount of trepidation. Out of all the rooms in the house, the bathroom is easily the tiniest. There’s enough room for a toilet, an aging sink, and a shower that Kageyama’s not entirely sure he will fit in by himself, yet alone with Hinata trying to share.

Hinata peers around his elbow. Even trying to stand in the room together is a squeeze. “You think?”

 _“You_ might fit,” Kageyama replies, “because you’re short- _oww!”_

Hinata huffs as he removes his fingers from where he had dug them into Kageyama’s ribs. “Well, I think you’ll be fine. It’s a normal shower, you’re just too used to fancy hotels…” he grumbles.

Kageyama shuffles, suitably chastened. The hotels he stays in aren’t usually _that_ nice – Power Curry’s budget isn’t that big – but the bathrooms are… bigger. He keeps forgetting Hinata lives a much humbler life than he does.

“But!” Hinata says, clapping his hands together and causing Kageyama to jump, “even if you have to crouch, because I’m such a good host, I will graciously let you use it while I use the sink.”

“Thanks,” Kageyama grunts, though he does eye the sink behind them and thinks he might be getting the better deal, even if the shower is quite narrow. That sink doesn’t look very… reliable.

But, despite the aging pipes and disconcerting noises, both shower and sink seem to work just fine, and Kageyama manages to have a perfunctory shower with little issue – aside from a few bumped elbows against the walls.

(He’d had to turn and face the shower head at one stage, because even through the shower curtain he could still see Hinata’s silhouette and everything he was doing… and at some points the view was making his dick start to twitch with interest again.)

“I…” Kageyama starts to say, once they’re both padding back to the bedroom, both naked with pink skin rubbed dry from Hinata’s surprisingly soft towels.

“Hmmm?” Hinata hums, peeking up at him from where he’s still rubbing one over his hair.

“I didn’t… bring a change of clothes,” Kageyama admits, eyeing his strewn clothing across the floor. He’s okay to wear it all again tomorrow – he can always rummage in Old Ukai’s shop for a spare shirt and pants if he _really_ needs to – but he’s a little short for tonight.

“Oh!” Hinata tosses his towel in the vague direction of the bathroom. His hair sticks up in every single direction possible, like he’s just been electrocuted. “That’s okay. Help me change the sheets.”

Kageyama frowns in confusion, opening his mouth to question this, before giving up and following Hianta’s lead – stripping down the bed and replacing the sheets as quickly as possible.

Yawning mightily, Hinata tips and tumbles onto the bed, mattress springs squeaking under his weight, and reaches for Kageyama’s hand.

Kageyama gives it to him, baffled, before yelping in surprise when Hinata grips him tightly and pulls – yanking him down onto the bed beside him.

“Don’t worry,” Hinata says cheerfully, as Kageyama rolls himself into a more comfortable position, muttering furiously into a pillow, “it gets too hot to sleep with clothes on anyway.”

“… Oh,” Kageyama mumbles, face still planted into bed covers. He pauses, before rolling a little more until he’s on his back, kicking at the covers until they cover just his legs. Hinata wiggles beside him, impatient, and he huffs, lifting an arm to allow him to burrow against his side.

“You just… sleep naked.”

“Uh huh,” Hinata confirms, sleepiness starting to creep into his voice. “It’s a desert. It might get a little cooler at night but by the time the sun rises it’s boiling again.”

Kageyama hums, only half listening. He drags the back of his fingers down Hinata’s spine, relishing in the feel of supple skin beneath his touch. Hinata may not sleep like this when they’re on the road for races – and the thought of next season sends him shivering with anticipation – but at home… well. It’s a pleasant thought.

Hinata yawns again, letting out another sleepy little noise before resting his cheek against Kageyama’s pec, getting comfortable. Kageyama feels a smile – irrepressibly happy – tug at the corners of his mouth and he trails his hand back upwards, stroking up Hinata’s back before burying his fingers in shower damp ginger hair, carding his fingers through the strands.

“Yeah…” Hinata mumbles into his chest. “It’s real.”

“Oh fuck off,” Kageyama mutters, but the smile on his face remains, and he gives the – very natural – red hair in his fingers a punishing tug before looping his arm around Hinata’s shoulders, rubbing his thumb across his shower pink skin.

Lying there, in Hinata’s soft bed, surrounded by fresh sheets and the smell of Hinata’s shower gel filling his nostrils, Kageyama feels himself start to drift off. Lulled into sleep quickly by the warmth and weight of the man in his arms and the bone deep contentment from what has been arguably one of the best days of his life.

“I don’t know what you were so worried about, you know.”

Kageyama grunts, hovering in the space between sleep and awareness, as Hinata speaks up.

“No-one’s ever been that nice to me during sex before.”

Kageyama starts, and cracks his eyes open, squinting down at Hinata blearily. “What do you mean?” he asks, his voice thick and slurring with drowsiness, but something in Hinata’s words is causing him to wake up again fast.

Hinata squeezes his torso. “All that… stuff, at the beginning? S’nice. It was _really_ nice. No-one’s ever done that with me before. I felt…” he stops, and Kageyama wonders if he’s just dropped off to sleep midway through speaking, before Hinata speaks up again, his voice small.

“I felt really special.”

Kageyama moves to speak, to say something, anything, to confirm this, because _yes-_ Hinata is the most unique, most intriguing, most _special_ person he’s ever met in his entire life. But there’s nothing he can summon, no words Kageyama can find that feel sufficient enough, important enough, to explain this.

So he gathers Hinata up in his arms and pulls him close, squeezing him tight and burying his face in his hair, and hopes he can convey it through touch instead.

He thinks he hears Hinata sniffle, just a bit, and hug him back ferociously, with all the power and strength he has buried in his sleepy body.

For a while, they lie there, holding onto each tight, until sleep rises up to claim them and drag them under, just for a few hours, until the next day – and the next race – arrives for them both.

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me on twitter! @Emlee_J


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